


Threat Assessment

by Blue_Five



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Dredd AU, M/M, Telepathic!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Five/pseuds/Blue_Five
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a civilian consultant with the Psi Division, Stiles worked with a different Judge everyday.  Then he met Judge Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threat Assessment

**Author's Note:**

> While browsing through my archive files, I found this from years ago and thought, "Oh hell, why not?" I love Karl Urban's depiction of Judge Dredd and just watched it again the other night. Sterek seemed like a good fit. I may do one of my re-imaginings of the actual movie but this is a stand-alone for now.
> 
> Note - This isn't intended to follow the Judge Dredd 'verse (comic or films) to the letter. I just wanted to capture the overall feel of that world.

When he was 10, Stiles Stilinski stood silently as his father, an independent security contractor for the Beacon Hills MegaBlock was shot in front of him by one of his own deputies. When the man turned the weapon on Stiles, the young boy met his eyes. The last thing Deputy Haigh witnessed in his miserable life was a flash of amber as Stiles' telepathic ability manifested.  The entirety of the boy's grief and rage flared, then focused on Haigh, instantly liquefying his brain.  The Justice Division found Stiles sitting beside his father's body and he became a ward of MegaCity One. 

Twelve years later, as a civilian consultant with the newly created Psi Division, Stiles works with different Judges on a rotational basis. He wears a uniform that designates him as a civilian.  His ability is strong enough that he doesn't have to remove his helmet to use it.  However, a small implant was placed behind one ear when he was taken as a ward and it was determined that he had the ability to kill with just his thoughts.  Only a specially spoken code sequence will allow him to use his full ability without the implant frying every synapse in his head.  It's an effective leash.

Regardless of the fact that Stiles will never be a badged Judge, he takes his position seriously.  He speaks only when spoken to unless circumstances demand otherwise.  He trains daily with the standard Lawgiver Mark II which allows him to hold his own in a firefight.   He keeps abreast of all the changes to the legal system which allows him to be a back-up witness to any judgments pronounced by his assigned Judge. 

Stiles knows the battle for control in the city is skewed heavily toward the criminal element and mutants like himself are a desperate measure to try and bring the advantage back to the Judges.  For the most part, most of the Judges he rides with don't object to his presence despite their initial opinions about mutants.  It's as close as Stiles will ever get to being 'liked'.  It's enough.

Stiles meets Senior Judge Derek Hale on what was, up until that point, the worst day of his life. His assigned Judge for the day was Judge Vernon Boyd.  Built like an steel door, the man was prone to brute force before calm deduction and Stiles always knew their day would be eventful.  This day proves no exception when a routine investigation into a multiple homicide near the entrance to a MegaBlock is interrupted by the gang who created the situation.  It's simple survival when they surrender to the surviving gang members after a fierce firefight.  They are out-numbered and odds are they will die if they fight on before back-up arrives.

The gang leader, an idiot named Theo Raeken, believes he can torture the Judge and his sidekick for a lighter sentence.  He takes great glee in raping Stiles in front of Boyd.  The Judge simply spits out a tooth and adds sexual assault on a member of the Justice Division to the charges.  Stiles has to drop his head to keep from laughing out loud.  HIs life is bleak enough but he finds humor where he can.

Judge Boyd later reports that Stiles conducted himself admirably considering the situation.  His silence throughout the incident brought more beatings than actual rape but stayed quiet.  Following the rescue by four other Judges, Stiles is turned over to a set of med-techs.  He fights it but the trembling doesn't stop as he allows them to wrap his ribs, stitch his cuts and do the basic first-aid required before he's shipped off to the nearest medical center.  He looks up when he hears the familiar sound of a Judge's boots.  He guesses the Judge has been assigned to take his statement before he leaves.  He squints at the man's badge and his eyes widen.

"Ex-excuse me, Judge Hale?  Do you know Judge Boyd's condition?" Stiles asks.

His voice is steady but a fresh wave of shudders travels through him.  Stiles mentally curses his physical weakness.  Especially when he sits in front of one of the most decorated and infamous Judges in MegaCity One.  Sure he was raped, but Boyd was pummeled mercilessly.  Stiles still isn't sure how the man still breathed by the time the others arrived.

Judge Hale's expression is hidden behind his helmet but he raises his fist to speak into the comlink mic.

"Central ... request update on Judge Boyd's medical condition," The deep voice is flat and clinical.

"Copy that ... current medical status is critical but stable."

Hale notes Stiles' shaky nod acknowledging he heard the update.  "Th-thank you."

Judge Hale regards Stiles for a moment before motioning the med-techs away.  Stiles looks around confused and then suddenly finds the Judge leaning down directly in his face.  Body turned to hide his actions, Hale flips up his helmet visor and Stiles finds himself looking into moss-green eyes.

"The perimeter is secure and all perps have been judged," Judge Hale states, jerking his thumb over one shoulder.  Black body bags are being placed in a Resyk van to be taken away for processing.  "Threat assessment:  none."  Hale flips his visor down and stands.

Stiles looks at Hale for a minute then takes a long, deep breath.  He knows enough of Judge Hale's reputation to know the man isn't much for prevarication.  His trembling stops.  Stiles nods, steadily this time.

"Thank you for the update Judge Hale. Do you want to debrief me here or follow me over to the med-center?"

Hale's helmet cocks to one side.  "False bravado won't help you recover psychologically."

Stiles looks at him, eyes narrowing. "Sir?"

"Rape is a traumatic experience ..."

"... and one I've experienced before. Sir.  I'll be fine to return to duty as soon as the med-center clears me." Stiles interrupts.  He refuses to be seen as weak by this man for some reason even though that's exactly how he appeared a few moments ago.

Hale shrugs.  "Proceed with your statement, Civilian."

"Civilian Consultant Stilinski," Stiles corrects.

"Civilian Consultant _Stilinski_ ... your statement.  Speak clearly for the recorder," Judge Hale says, tapping his com to record.

Once Stiles has related everything that happened, he's loaded into the ambo and whisked off for further attention at the med-center.  Judge Derek Hale watches the vehicle leave.  He suspects that the young man will need surgery if the way he was holding his body is any indication of how much damage the rape caused.  An unfamiliar sensation prickles along Hale's skin -- attraction.  It's not a welcome emotion.  As a Judge, he's technically forbidden any personal relationships with other Judges.  However . . . Stilinski isn't a Judge.  Hale makes a mental note to look over the young psi-consultant's file.

* * *

Stiles feels irritation at Judge Hale although he knows it's unfounded.  His ego is bruised, nothing more.  Shock made him appear weak in front of one of the toughest Judges on the planet.  Who wouldn't feel embarrassed?  Stiles endures a week of reduced activity while his ribs (and other parts of his anatomy) knit back together.  He looks forward to being back on the street his first day back and eagerly scans the board for his assigned Judge when someone walks up.

"Parrish? He has one of the most difficult territories," Hale comments.

Stiles is proud of himself for not jumping at the bass timbre.  Instead, he nods and meets Judge Hale's gaze -- as much as he can since they're both wearing helmets.  "Yes sir. I submitted a request to be his assignment today.  He was gracious enough to consent."

Hale just nods and leaves to begin his own day.  He passes the pair that evening on his way into Headquarters to complete the day's paperwork.  The Judges nod at one another and pause.

"Parrish. How was the ride-along?" Hale asks, head turning slightly toward Stiles.

Judge Parrish looks over at the psi.  Stiles' helmet and uniform are scuffed and battered like his own.  A dark bruise is forming along a sharp jawline on Stiles and Parrish knows the young man has to have more under his leathers.  Parrish has his own collection he'll be soaking tonight.  He's already requested that Stilinski be kept on his rotation.  High praise from a Judge.

"Eventful. Domestic situation flared." Parrish replies.

"Looks like you got into it." Hale observes.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. Problem?"

"No problem. Enjoy your evening."

Stiles fumes all the way home.

* * *

Two weeks pass before Stiles encounters Hale again.  He's researched everything he could find on the man and is even more impressed with Judge Hale's record.  It irritates Stiles that Hale probably considers him a weak link both because he's a civilian and a mutant.  Stiles knows he's a formidable asset to the Judge system.  He enjoys the ride-alongs and is loathe to give it up for a Judge that thinks he's emotionally compromised.

Lost in thought, Stiles doesn't sense Hale until the Judge falls into step beside him.  He mentally kicks himself but keeps his expression neutral.  Hale walks beside him all the way to Stiles' bike.  He frowns as Hale regards him from behind the ever-present helmet.

"Do you know where I reside?" Hale asks.

Stiles blinks. Not a question he'd expected at all -- he grazes Judge Hale's mind and sees the address and location plainly on the surface of the man's thoughts.  That almost startles him more because it means Hale expected the intrusion.

"Yes. I know it."

"One hour?"

Stiles feels a strange warmth sliding into his mind and realizes with yet another jolt that it's emanating from the Judge.  His utter and complete astonishment held in tight check, Stiles nods.  "Affirmative."

Hale looks at him a minute longer and then walks off.  Stiles gets on his bike and settles his regular helmet into place before driving off in a daze.  The desire in Hale's mind was infectious even if Stiles was just as attracted to the man in return.  He takes his time getting to Judge Hale's apartment, using many round-about paths to get there.

 _What am I doing? He's a JUDGE ... he's probably entrapping me so he can have me kicked off the force ..._ Stiles' thoughts are running a mile a minute through his brain.

He pauses, hand on the buzzer to Hale's flat.  If Hale had set him up with a false invitation, his career with the Judge system is over.  He'll be handed over to the Special Judicial Squad (SJS) for interrogation and disciplinary action.  Stiles swallows hard, reconciling what he knows about Judge Hale and his fears.  Hale is known, nay _famous_ , for his direct approach.  If he wanted Stiles off the force, the psi would never have returned to active duty after their first meeting.  He presses the buzzer.

Hale opens the door and Stiles walks in without greeting.  He is unsurprised to find the place as spartan as the man himself.  Stiles takes in his first impression of the man out of his uniform, something rarely seen by civilians.  Even out of his boots, Judge Hale is tall and Stiles is no shrimp.  His hair is thick, dark and cropped short.  A dark brow tops the green eyes that watch every movement Stiles makes and for some reason, the psi finds the intense focus arousing.  Hale wears simple workout gear -- sweats, runners and a tank.  Stiles sees muscles ripple under the shirt and the scarred arms and hands tense and release as if Hale holds himself in check.  Stiles takes off his jacket and hangs it on a rack near the door, his helmet and gloves placed on a nearby chair.

Stiles is spun around and pinned to the wall a breath later.  Hale's lips find his and Stiles swallows a groan.  He feels hesitation hovering at the edge of the other man's mind.  Stiles realizes that Hale isn't completely certain he'd read the psi correctly.  Stiles guesses Hale wonders about SJS too.  He pulls back, studying the steady gaze.  A question floats there, just visible in the tense lines at the corners of Hale's eyes.  Stiles nods ever so slightly and finds himself the recipient of another invasive and very bruising kiss.  Hands move over him and somehow, he's undressed and unceremoniously pushed down onto a bed.

Stiles barely has time to look up at Hale pulling off his own clothes before the broad body is sliding over him and their cocks are brushing against one another.  He arches his back and then moans when the Judge all but folds him in half, prepping him efficiently.  Stiles tries to find some moment between breaths where he can examine what's happening, but Hale is too demanding.  Stiles thinks he should not want it this way -- he's no virgin and sex has always been enjoyable for him thanks to his gift but right now he more a spectator to his own body's responses than an active participant.  Hale puts one of Stiles' legs over his shoulder and lifts the younger man up just enough to slide home in one powerful thrust.  Stiles groans at the pain which blessedly gives way to an incredible sense of fullness and then he's fighting to brace himself against the headboard as Hale pistons in and out of his body.

Sounds seem out of place here and for whatever reason, Stiles finds he likes it.  The silence and dark of the bedroom is broken only by the odd flash of light through the drawn blinds and their mutual hard breathing.  Occasionally, Stiles or Hale grunt or make some other sound when sparks flare in their bodies but only a sudden quickening of breath and the slap of skin against skin marks the build-up to release.  Stiles wraps his legs tightly around Hale and when the rhythm falls into perfect synch, they trigger one another's climax.  Stiles barks a short, nonsensical sound and then loses all track of himself as he rides the wave.  Hale's orgasm seems to go on forever as he slides in and out of Stiles' body but eventually, the movement slows and just as abruptly as it started, Stiles finds himself lying on his back, legs sprawled open with Hale laying beside him.

It doesn't take his powers a psi to determine Hale is done.  Stiles doesn't expect cuddles but he isn't sure what his next move should be.  His body cools and he makes a decision.

"Using your shower," Stiles announces. He's up and off the bed toward the bathroom with a few quick movements.

Hales leading emotion is curiosity and Stiles smiles as he rinses off and cleans the evidence of their joining away.  Hale waits to see what Stiles will do now.  He waits to see if he made a mistake.

It's not his style but Stiles forces his movements to be slow and calculated.  He dries off, finds his clothes and dresses.  He doesn't look at Hale, nor does he offer a farewell.  He walks out of the apartment and grins when a wave of relief follows him.  Stiles exhales softly, grateful he'd made the correct choice.  Hale pushes a thin line asking Stiles to his flat -- Judges are not allowed to have romantic liaisons with other Judges.  Anyone, actually, but another Judge is strictly forbidden.  Stiles is a civilian which opens a possibility.  Stiles knows he has to keep his emotions out of it if he wants it to continue.

 _Do I want it to continue?_ Stiles wonders.

His ass throbs and his legs feel like mush but a grin slowly spreads along the psion's face beneath his concealing helmet visor.

 _Hell, yes_.

* * *

So Judge Derek Hale begins a physical relationship with Civilian Consultant Stilinski.  His attraction to Stiles had been immediate and unexpected but the more he learns about the young man, the more he wants him.  He carries himself well on the job and around other Judges -- even the ones who despise mutants.  His file is full of recommendations and rotation requests.  It speaks highly of the man.  Hale decides he wants to see what he's like out on the street for himself.  As senior Judge, Hale adds himself to Stiles' rotation and says nothing to him.

Their first ride-along together was - for MegaCity One - uneventful.  Stiles's calm under fire, however, arouses Hale intensely.  He doesn't know why -- he knows the man is more than capable in a fight.  He guesses it's because of his constant silence.  No Judge is ever talkative nor are most of their civilian counterparts but Stiles is almost preternatural in his ability to keep quiet.  It reminds him of how the young man is when Hale fucks him.

During sex, Hale has observed that Stiles barely does more than breathe heavy or offer the odd groan when whatever Hale is doing feels good.  Not that Hale does much -- he's as single-minded in seeking pleasure as he is in everything else.  It's all pretty basic once they're both naked.  Stiles' body tells him all he needs to know from the momentary discomfort of initial entry to the moment just before climax where his muscles contract on Hale's cock so tightly he swears sometimes he's going to have a bruise.  As much as he hates the word, Hale admits he finds Stiles' focused control ... sexy.

Hale seeks physical companionship rarely as a Judge.  Still, he's a man and his body sometimes requires more than a hand and imagination to sate the need.  In these instances, he finds the company of a willing civilian.  It's a gray area in the Justice Department but no one digs too deeply.  Stiles surprises him continually because even the one-night-stands all seemed to expect more afterwards.  Stiles still showers and leaves without a word.  Although ... lately, Stiles presses his lips to whatever skin he can reach before heading to the bathroom.  He still says nothing and Hale doesn't mind.  In fact, the few times the psi has skipped the gesture, the Judge finds he almost misses it.

Hale looks over the rosters for the day and pauses when he sees Stiles's name with a medical notation. He pulls up his previous day's assignment and reads that the psi is in a nearby med-center.  Gunshot wound.  Hale's frown deepens as he reads the rest of the report.

Stiles' partner Judge was a particularly feisty woman named Erica Reyes.  Judge Hale remembers the various times he's worked with her.  She's brutal and unwavering in her judgments which he likes but Reyes pushes _every_ boundary.  Her file contains as many complaints from fellow Judges as from the civilian populace for everything from rudeness to behavior unbecoming a Judge.  Hale wonders if she finally pushed someone too far.  He skims down the page and his expression becomes thunderous.

A shot from a passing vehicle took Judge Reyes off her bike and sent her sprawling onto the side of the highway.  After giving Central the car description and tags, Stiles had done what could only be called a suicidal U-turn and returned to Judge Reyes.  He requested and was given code release permission to use his ability to 'nudge' Reyes' body into not bleeding out.  Once she stopped bleeding, he followed first-aid protocol, dragged her to a defensible area and stayed watchful until their backup and med-techs arrived.

Unfortunately, the light was low by that time and the Judges, on approach, saw Stiles before he saw them.  Without insignia, Stiles's leathers looked like any other civilian's. The lead Judge, a miserable mutant-hating pissant named Harris, did not announce himself.  He reported he simply saw a threatening figure bent over a Judge and fired.

Hale notifies Central he's going off-line and drives directly to the med-Center where Judge Reyes and Stiles had been transported.  He forces himself to find Reyes first.  In an isolation ward reserved for Judges, she lies recovering.  It's probably the stillest he's ever seen her and he tells her this.  Reyes chuckles softly before frowning up at Hale.

"I'm recommending Stilinski for a commendation.  He'll never be considered but he did everything by the book right up until Harris shot him.  I want that in his file," the Judge growls.  "He should be a Judge. He's ridden with you - what would be your assessment?"

"He'd be a pass," Hale responds. His mind had involuntarily gone to another image when Reyes mentions riding.  He's grateful for his helmet ... and for the leathers that keep his anatomy in place.  "Where is he now?"

"Civilian ICU ... bullet collapsed a lung ... damn near ended him."

Hale frowns.  "Harris?"

Reyes snorts.  "Hates mutants.  'Low-light' my beautiful, hot ass ... none of the other Judges mistook Stilinski as a threat."

Hale nods.  Reyes can't come out and threaten Harris no matter how much she'd like to and neither can Hale.  In a world where the man or woman watching your back could be your only hope of going home in one piece, it doesn't behoove anyone to toss around unsubstantiated rumors.

"I'll recommend a medical eval for Harris.  It's not safe for a Judge with compromised sight to be out on patrol," Hale says.

Reyes' grin would not be out of place on a rabid wolf, Hale thinks.

* * *

Hale leaves Reyes to recuperate and finds Stiles' room.  He enters and simply stands beside the bed.  The young man is pale and the scanners monitoring his vitals tell Hale he's very weak.  Hale frowns as yet another unfamiliar emotion winds its way through his chest.  He takes a half-step backwards, not wanting to feel this about Stiles but he realizes it's too late.  He gives in to yet another change in his nature and places a gloved hand over Stiles'.  Hale squeezes gently before turning and walking out of the room.  He does not visit Stiles again for the duration of his recovery.

Reyes stops beside him at the roster board one day.  He tilts his head slightly toward her to indicate he's listening.

"Harris punched the chief over his medical evaluation results.  He'll be spending time in an iso-cube after the Tribunal strips his badge."

"Pity."

Reyes walks off.  No one sees the faint uptick of one corner of Hale's lips.  It's as close to a smile as he gets.

* * *

Stiles spends his first day back filling out paperwork.  He heads out that evening and doesn't react when Judge Hale falls into step beside him.

"Civilian Consultant Stilinski," Hale offers.

"Judge Hale," Stiles responds.

"One hour?"

"Affirmative."

* * *

Stiles falls back from Hale's body with a contented sigh.  Even Hale admits this particular round had been ... _energetic_ to say the least.  And noisy - for them anyway.  Hale stares at his ceiling and debates his next move.  When Stiles turns his head to kiss a cooling shoulder, Hale rolls over and holds himself over the surprised man.

"Stay."

Stiles tenses as he looks into the green eyes.  He loves watching those eyes darken when they have sex.  He loves knowing those eyes watch him every second they're on patrol together.  He loves those eyes and the man they belong to but he will never, _ever_ tell Hale.  He considers the request and nods, knowing he couldn't have answered any other way.

"Still using your shower," Stiles says softly, moving to roll out of bed.

"Inefficient use of water," Hale counters, leaning down to pin Stiles with the deepest kiss he's ever given the psi.

Stiles' emotions spin in a whirlpool.  He knows if Hale ever suspects that Stiles has fallen well and truly in love with him he will end the relationship as if it never happened.  Stiles also knows he has no choice - he'll take every moment he can grasp with Hale even if it all ends in flames.  The kiss inspires his puckish side and he slides down the bed until he's even with Hale's half-hard cock.  He takes the man in his mouth to the root and feels the heat surge into hardness.  Hale growls but Stiles can tell it's out of pleasure.  Stiles holds himself up on his elbows and methodically sucks the Judge off.  Hale fists the sheets and actually shouts when he finally comes down Stiles' waiting throat.  Stiles grins briefly at the prone man before getting up for a shower.  Hale lies still, listening to his own heartbeat before following.

Stiles expects it but he's still surprised when Hale joins him in the shower.  He hides his amusement but can't control the harsh gasp when Hale pulls him against his body under the spray and wraps one hand around Stiles' cock while sliding three fingers into his still loose entrance.  Stiles' arms go up and around Hale's neck and he fights to stay silent as the Judge works him.  Stiles' mouth falls slackly open because Hale's teeth begin to work on the tender skin of his neck.  He dimly wonders if he can die from an orgasm.

Hale finds he likes the utterly helpless look on Stiles' face.  Even when the psi opens his eyes, Hale can tell he's not all there - his brain is flooded with pleasure chemicals and Stiles is completely pliant to whatever Hale wants.  He taunts and teases with knowledgeable hands, knowing just how far gone the young man is -- he turns him around, shifting their bodies until he has Stiles pinned between himself and the cool tile.  The other man is thrusting helplessly in Hale's grip, unable to decide which way he wants to go -- into the tight fist around his cock or back onto the now four fingers in his ass.  Hale feels the tension building in Stiles' body and when the psi bites down on his own lip to stifle the scream that threatens, Hale stops moving.  Stiles whines and looks over his shoulder in despair.

"Say it," Hale grinds out. "I want to hear you say it."

Stiles blinks, shaking his head in confusion.  His lust-blown eyes plead for help in understanding.

"Say my first name ... I know you know it."

Stiles shudders when the dual assault begins again.  He moans, unable to hold himself silent this time.  His body begins to tense and Hale leans close, breathing hot against Stiles' ear.  "Say. It."

Stiles comes howling.  _"DEERRREEEK!"_

He keeps saying the name in desperate breaths until his own name becomes a mystery to him.  Stiles comes down gradually and Hale steadies him under the warm spray of water.  He barely registers the rest of the shower or that night.  When he jerks awake early the next morning, he is alone.  He can't sense Hale's mental presence nearby so Stiles assumes he's already at work.  He dresses and makes his own way into Headquarters.  He looks over the roster and sees Hale is paired with him for the day.  A dark voice in the back of his mind tells him Hale is going to end their relationship because he knows things have become far more intimate than just sex.

The day passes with the usual amount of violence and mayhem.  During a short meal break, Hale turns off his helmet cam and flips up his visor.  Stiles removes his helmet.  Hale looks at him to ensure he's listening then stares straight ahead.

"The arrangement is ... complicated.  That shouldn't prevent it from continuing.  Copy?"

"Copy that."

Hale frowns and looks Stiles directly in the eyes.  "Any other arrangements should be ended."

"Non-issue," Stiles replies.

Hale flips his visor back down before walking back to his bike.  As is becoming common with Stiles, he can not understand why it pleases him so much to learn the psi wasn't seeing anyone else.  He feels a flare of pride at the additional realization that Stiles understands the dangerous path they are embarking on and is willing to continue regardless.  He finds himself more than willing to risk it.

* * *

Fate's plans throw everything into a tailspin not long after their decision.  Hale takes a rookie named Isaac Lahey out for a special assessment run to determine if he is worthy of being a Judge.  It's odd for Judge Hale because the young man is a psi like Stiles but his gift, while strong isn't considered as much of a threat as Stiles'.  He wears no implant.  Hale lets the rookie choose their assignment and they end up at a Megablock called Peach Trees.  It turns out to be an eventful day.  Judge Hale still isn't entirely certain how they survive being trapped in a block controlled by the then-infamous Ma-Ma clan. Hale is forced to kill four corrupt Judges and he approves Isaac later as a Judge.

Stiles spends the entire day in agony of Hale's status.  He cannot reveal his concern so he simply listens to Central's chatter when he can -- fortunately, he's paired with Judge Reyes again and she seems to understand.  It worries him that she'll betray them, but she takes him aside and flips up both their visors.  Her dark eyes bore into him as if she can actually see his thoughts.  He knows she can't but he sets up shields anyway out of a desperate effort to feel like he's doing something under the intense gaze.

"I remember people, Stilinski.  Especially the ones that keep me from being a name on a plaque for 'Died Performing Honorable Service'," Judge Reyes snaps. 

She slaps their visors back down and nothing more is said.  Stiles realizes she knows but she'll never say anything.  He relaxes and goes back to monitoring Central's channel when he can.  When Central finally announces an update, Reyes turns her speaker up so they can both hear.  Judge Hale and Rookie Lahey are alive.  Stiles goes home and eats a bowl of soup before retiring for the evening.  He dreams of towering trees.

* * *

Two weeks after what Stiles labels "The Incident" in his mind, Hale extends an invitation.  He accepts and true to routine, he's barely six steps inside the door before he's naked and on the bed with Hale's body covering him.  The tension he's held in his body since Peach Trees slowly bleeds away as Hale does the unexpected and slowly explores the slender body beneath him.  Hale preps Stiles gently and his kisses are drawn out and almost lazy.  It's unsettling but Stiles lets the man set the pace.

Hale traces every scar on Stiles' body with his tongue, lingering over the one on his chest where Harris shot him.  Stiles frowns when he realizes that the man is acting almost ... tender.  It's too much and he pushes back, refusing to let his clandestine lover give in to the emotion.

Hale regards Stiles curiously.  He's been needing to demonstrate his feelings for Stiles for weeks now and although it makes him uneasy, his efforts tonight are the only way he knows how.  Stiles seeming rejection has him on edge.

Hands slide down Hale's torso and he feels fingers linger on the new scar - the scar he'd received when the armor piercing round had gone through him.  Stiles rolls them over and straddles Hale's thighs, continuing to trace the uneven edges of the wound, the result of a field dressing under fire.  Hale tenses slightly, the new skin was very sensitive.  He frowns at Stiles' expression.

"Problem?" Hale asks.  Conversation is hardly their strong point but silence seems wrong right now.

Stiles pauses in his touch and looks at Hale.  "Read the incident report."

Whiskey-gold eyes shine for a moment with something Hale thinks are tears and then twitch away in embarrassment.  Hale gently turns the eyes back to him.  The amber eyes he willingly falls into every time they have sex.

"Elaborate."

Stiles looks at the ceiling, blinking fiercely but one lone drop slides down his cheek.  "Was a long day."

 _Long day._ Hale's mouth quirks and he pushes himself up against the headboard, tugging Stiles close.  He leans in and kisses the wet streak feeling the young man's body go very still.  He pulls back and nods.

" _Extremely_ long day," Hale agrees.

Stiles gapes at Hale for a long moment before the Judge tips his mouth shut.  The kiss-swollen lips quirk in imitation of the Judge he's straddling.  "Hell of an eval day for the rookie."

"Hell of an eval day for the assessment officer too," Hale replies.

With a solemn nod, Stiles leans in and claims Hale's mouth, nipping at the full lips.  He raises his hips and before Hale can guess what he's up to, slides himself down onto the Judge's cock unprepped.  Pain lances through Stiles' body but it is quickly followed by the surge of warmth and fullness that always makes Stiles feel drunk.  The Judge beneath him sucks in a rough breath but leans forward, settling Stiles more firmly in his lap.  He growls and Stiles knows he just flipped the switch.

The brutal pounding that follows has the bed protesting but Stiles feels like he's flying.  Hale flips him around before they both climax and puts the psi on his knees.  Stiles barely has time to understand the new position before he feels every inch of Hale's cock slam into him.  He comes with a wheezing " _yessss_ " and lets Hale find his own release.  He takes the man's weight on him when his legs finally give out but Stiles doesn't care because he can still feel Hale inside him.

Stiles feels the Judge withdraw eventually and they lie side by side, spent.  He rolls over and presses a kiss to Hale's bicep and then heads for the bathroom without another glance.  Hale frowns.  He knows their relationship is about to take another shift and he wonders if he's up for it.  When the water starts, he gets up and goes to the bathroom.

Stiles stands with his head down under the water stream.  As Hale watches, he turns off the water and stands for a moment before tremors start rippling through his body.  Water falls to the tiles.  Hale watches as Stiles cries, something he's never done in all their time together.

Hale moves in behind Stiles and pulls the young man against him.  A ragged sob escapes the psi and he fights to stifle it.  Hale presses his lips against Stiles' ear and growls, "Let me hear you."

The Judge begins to run his hands over Stiles' body and settles over the man's cock again which responds instantly.  He strokes slowly, easing Stiles from tears to helpless gasps as the pleasure builds.  His lover bends over, bracing himself against the tile wall and Hale slides home, the way already slick from their previous activity.  It takes almost no time at all for them both to reach the end but this time Stiles hears his own name harshly ground out as he shouts Derek's name in release.

As they come down, Hale eases out of Stiles' body and starts the water again.  They shower lazily and when they settle in bed, Stiles finds himself pulled against Hale, head pillowed on the Judge's chest.  He swallows hard, afraid of what comes next.  It's one thing for Hale to believe Stiles is fond of him and prefers his company over any other ... but love was never on the table.  It has no place in Judge Hale's world and Stiles just announced it with fanfare.

"I can leave," Stiles whispers.

"Elaborate."

Stiles sits up.  "Our arrangement doesn't allow for ... for _this_."  Stiles indicates himself, gesturing vaguely at his chest where the betraying organ slams painfully into his sternum.

Hale looks at him for a long time before gently tucking Stiles against him again.  Stiles feels like his heartbeat must be echoing off the walls.  In all their time together, they've never slept like this - always back to back.  Stiles feels Hale's body tensing like he's debating what to do.  The silence, once so calming now feels like a suffocating blanket and Stiles decides he can't wait for the rejection to be voiced.  He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed, a steel trap of a hand holding his arm.

"Wait ..." Hale says softly.

Stiles pauses, fighting the tears that were threatening to break free. He hears Hale move and then Stiles feels warm, strong arms pulling him back toward the bed. Stiles follows but confusion wars with his heart's desire as he's tucked against Hale's torso.

"Your profile indicated you are the strongest recorded telepath in the Judges system." Hale says.  "Besides Lahey."

"Correct." Stiles confirms.

"Then use it," Hale orders huskily.

Stiles freezes next to him. Hale had made it clear early on that he would not brook any betrayal from Stiles in this respect.  The Judge knew Stiles couldn't help but hear the surface thoughts of every person he came in contact with but he warned that going any deeper or trying to make contact unbidden would be the end of their 'arrangement' and most probably Stiles' career in the Judge system.

Stiles had respected that and never allowed himself anything else beyond the heat that seemed to leak off Hale's mind whenever they were together.  Stiles reaches out now ... the barest tendril sliding past the outer layer of thoughts and feelings.  He pulls back, eyes wide and pupils blown.  Hale's green eyes focus on him.  The silence is suddenly perfect and right again.  Stiles reaches up and, with his index finger, traces a long figure eight on its side ... right over Hale's heart.  Hale's body relaxes.  He returns the gesture just as slowly over Stiles' chest.  They stare at each other.  The 'arrangement' was a good deal more complicated.

* * *

Eternity. Was it even fair to dream of it?

Hale finds that it's not as difficult to focus on his job as he'd feared.  A steady presence now resides in the back of his mind, always there but never intruding.  It's calming and he finds himself building his hard-ass reputation even farther because, of all things, he's _showing off_ for Stiles.  Amusement colors the presence more often than not which makes Hale concentrate even more on making his dent on the crime in MegaCity One a large one.

Judge Lahey proves an apt pupil of the streets.  He makes a few high-level busts and Hale finds himself proud that he passed the psi.  Unfortunately, he finds himself quickly regretting the man's ability as a telepath.

Lahey walks out of Headquarters just behind Stilinski and Hale one evening.  The pair part ways with a simple nod as always.  It's a scene witnessed by Lahey more than once since he's joined the force.  Stilinski's contribution to the Judge system is something Lahey hopes to emulate since he actually _is_ a Judge.  He reaches out with his mind, intending only to catch Stilinski's attention before the man leaves.  An emotion hits him and it's not from Stilinski.  Too late, Lahey realizes Judge Hale had seen his reaction.

“Problem, Lahey?"  The voice is low but not threatening. 

“Not for me, Judge Hale," Lahey offers.  He pauses as he walks away.  "I sensed it but others might _see_ it."

With that warning, Lahey leaves Hale to his own thoughts.  The Judge growls and goes home.  Stiles is coming over tonight.

* * *

 Stiles joins Hale at their arranged time, but Hale does not greet him as usual.  Body tense, Stiles waits. 

“Lahey.”

“He knows?” Stiles asks, his chest feeling like a MegaBlock just settled on it. 

“He sensed.  He warned others - even mundanes - may notice as well." 

Stiles blinks and manages to croak, “Threat assessment?”

“High.”

Hale's expression is blank but Stiles feels the poorly concealed unease in the Judge's mind.  He decides. 

“Arrangement terminated.” Stiles says, pulling his jacket back on. 

Hale moves then.  He catches Stiles' arm as he turns to leave, pulling them against each other.  He looks into the whiskey-gold gaze, wanting nothing more than to fall into the pools of amber like always.  He knows the risk as much as anyone.

“Incorrect assessment.” Hale growls.

“Elaborate.” Stiles asks softly.

Hale’s mouth covers his and for a moment they sink into heat and desire.  Stiles feels his body tempting him to let go and ignore the danger.  It's seductive and it takes everything he has to push away from Hale.

“Not for me.”

Hale tilts his head, eyes narrowed.  "Don't." 

Stiles ignores the warning as he shoves his bike helmet on, fastening the chin strap.  "The arrangement alone is worth a reprimand at best based on your record and mine.  The risk is the perception of others - you uphold the law, you don't break it.  If one sensed, others might suspect and perceive you as weak which makes me a liability to you," Stiles explains shortly.  He looks up at Hale, eyes shining.  "You can't afford to ignore the threat this time.  Not for me.” 

With that, Stiles slaps his visor down and leaves.  He does not look back and he withdraws completely into his own head.  If he cries the entire ride home, no one sees. 

The next day, Stiles notes that Hale has removed himself from Stiles' rotation.  Stiles knows that once spurned, it would be radiation-free day in MegaCity before they ever rode together again.  The psi realizes he will never see Hale again outside their job requirements.  He knows he'll survive it.  He puts his heart, however, behind several layers of ice and determines to never let it thaw again.

* * *

Life goes on as Stiles knows it must.  He gains more commendations and scars.  His partner Judges tease that his brutal lack of emotion rivals even Judge Hale.  All the Judges but Judge Reyes and, oddly, Judge Boyd.  They leave him to ride their side in silence.  Occasionally, they submit a special case to consider Stiles for the badge but despite the exception made for Judge Lahey, it never happens.  Stiles doesn't mind.  He's lost the one thing he ever truly desired in the world.  Titles mean nothing to him, anyway.

* * *

One blisteringly hot day, Stiles is with Judge Boyd when they find themselves in the middle of a multi-gang block firefight.  Caught behind the lines, Boyd shouts at Central for backup.  Several units respond, including Judges Lahey and Hale.  Bullets rain down everywhere and then the Judges are finally able to bring larger artillery into the fight.  It's regrettable - innocents are fleeing the scene and no matter how anyone tries, they are being shot down just as easily as the gang members.

Judge Boyd spots an opening and yells at Stiles.  Together, they make a run for it but just short of the line, a bullet slams through Stiles' leg armor and he goes down.  Boyd skids to a halt, snags Stiles' arm and drags him bodily the rest of the way.  The Judge jerks off his helmet and drops it beside Stiles where the psi lies panting behind a barrier, his leg screaming at him.

"Why are my days with you so fucking eventful, Stilinski?!?" Boyd barks with a harsh laugh, running a gloved hand over his close-cropped dark hair. Sweat goes flying.

Stiles shrugs and manages to hiss,  "Some Judges have all the luck."

Boyd laughs and moves off to help others behind the barriers.   Judge Lahey happens to be closest so he starts field dressing Stiles' wound after painfully setting the bone as best he can.  Stiles groans, knowing they'll just have to rebreak it at the med-center depending on how much damage the bullet did.  He curses softly at the burning cauterizing foam.  His ability to 'nudge' the healing factor in others is not something he can turn on himself, a fact he finds ironic since he can kill someone with his thoughts. 

Lahey snorts and Stiles remembers the other man is a telepath.  Amusement slides over his brain and he acknowledges it with his own mental laughter.  For a moment, he lets his guards down -- and then he's cursing.

"Fuck!  Get Central - get me a release code _now!_ " Stiles barks, pulling off his own helmet.

Judge Lahey reacts but it's all too slow.  Stiles has no choice.  He shouts in pain as he twists to get his personal blade out of his boot and, to Judge Lahey's horror, slices deep into his neck just behind an ear.  Stiles screams as he digs into the meat of his own head to find and pull out the implant.  He knows he has only a micro-second to do what he has to do.  As the fingers on one hand close over the slippery circuitry, he grabs Boyd's discarded helmet and jams it hard down on Judge Lahey's exposed head.  He sends out a hard pulse of thought, zeroing in on the man operating the rocket launcher aiming at the Judges gathered around Stiles.  He sees the man's brain as easily as if he was standing in front of the psi.  His mind slices into the other brain and shreds it just as the launch button is pushed.  Stiles' attack, however, sends the man's _other_ hand jerking forward, slamming into the navigation joystick and pointing the rocket down to the base of the MegaBlock.

The circling Justice department drones see the motion and warnings go out over every channel.  It's a free-for-all as Judges, civilians and gang members alike all race to escape the coming devastation.  Lahey runs as fast as he can, carrying a limp body over one shoulder.  Blood pours from Stiles' nose and then the rocket strike happens.  The explosion blows out the support pillars on one corner of the MegaBlock which wavers for a moment before tilting and crashing into the ground below, spreading debris and destruction over fifteen city blocks.  Another MegaBlock is damaged and for a while it is feared it too will go over but that doesn't happen, thankfully.

The dust is still settling when Judge Lahey finally manages to dig himself and the man he carried as far as he could out of the rubble.  Rescue workers pull them both to freedom and Lahey watches, recovering from his shock as Stiles is loaded on a gurney.  Lahey barks at the paramedics.

"He's a decorated civilian consultant in the Justice department!  Treat him accordingly or I promise you, I will hunt each and every one of you down and pull your registrations with medical services!"

"So will I, darlings, so get it right," A sultry voice adds.

Judge Lahey looks over and sees Judge Reyes leaning heavily on Judge Boyd.  She's got a broken leg and what looks like several lacerations.  His own ribs are cracked and Boyd looks just seriously pissed at the entire world.  Lahey can relate.  The dark-skinned Judge jerks his chin at Stiles' motionless form.

"What happened?  He was fine when I left you two," Boyd demands.  He squints at Judge Lahey.  "And why are you wearing my helmet?"

Lahey shakes his head.  "He pulled out his implant so he could fry the guy that fired the rocket - it was aimed at us and he just happened to pick up on it," Isaac removes the helmet to hand back to Boyd.  "He put that on me because he knew his implant would send out a neural pulse when he removed it.  I've got a migraine the size of that fucking block but I'll be ok.  I don't know about Stilinski."

Judge Reyes looks at the retreating ambulance then up at Boyd.  "Someone needs to tell Hale."

* * *

Stiles drifts in a sea of pain.  His head feels like it's in millions of tiny agonized shards.  His leg hurts and he has the vague memory of a cage falling on him.  It's very confusing and he doesn't really want to wake all the way up.  He hears machines beeping and a low noise, like a dog growling.  Stiles tries to reach out with his mind but slams into something like white-hot static.  He thinks he screams but all he can hear is a gurgled moan.  Something rough brushes against his cheek and he opens his eyes.  A single moss-green eye looks down at him, the other one hidden behind a Judge's helmet visor which is broken.

“Ju-Jud-Judge Hale …?” Stiles asks, not certain if he's hallucinating.

“Yeah,” Hale replies.

Stiles watches the man remove his helmet.  It's hard to stay awake but he tries because seeing Hale again this close is akin to a miracle.  Memory prods him and Stiles rasps, "La-Lahey?"

Hale nods.  "Recovering.  Headache mostly."

He reaches out of Stiles' line of sight and turns back with a cup of ice chips.  He pulls off a glove and rough fingers take the plastic spoon to put a few chips against Stiles parched lips.  The psi sucks on them and groans at how miraculous it feels to have the moisture coating his throat.  A few more spoonfuls and then Stiles turns away.  He raises a hand to motion at his head.

Hale frowns and puts the cup to the side again.  "Full neural block."

Stiles pales.  He already feels like he's a ghost.  Without his ability to feel or sense a mind, everything seems unreal.  Even Hale's fingertips against his temple feel like they're attached to something that's not really there.  He tries to talk but Hale's fingers brush over his lips.  Stiles trembles as the man puts his glove back on and then his helmet.  He looks up at the door to Stiles' room and then back at the psi.

"The situation is ... unacceptable."

Stiles closes his eyes.  Hale is too close and he feels too alone in his own head.  He croaks, "Threat."

"Initial threat assessment has been revised," Hale says.  "Risk is lower than originally calculated." 

"Elab ... elaborate," Stiles gasps.  His head is killing him and his body is beginning to protest. 

"Later. Med-techs are here." 

Hale moves away as the doctor enters the room.  He nods at Stiles and then leaves.  The psi watches him go, his confusion overwhelming.  The med-techs give him something for the pain and Stiles slides away into the dark.

* * *

Judge Lahey visits Stiles periodically but Hale never does.  Stiles doesn't expect it but it still leaves him low.  He's staring at a small object in a jar one night when Lahey arrives.

"Souvenir?" The Judge asks.

Stiles holds up the cylinder.  "Two.  Bullet they pulled out of my leg."

Lahey takes it from the psi.  "What's that spiral thing?"

Stiles picks at the hem of his blanket.  "My implant."

Isaac looks up in surprise.  He sees the bandage on the slender neck and then realizes the blinking black band that had been across Stiles' forehead since he was admitted is gone.  The young man shrugs.

"Guess they decided I wasn't a threat anymore."

"You can apply to be a Judge now?" Lahey asks.

Stiles shakes his head.  "I asked to maintain my current rank and status.  I'm going to head up a training class in the Psi Division."

Judge Lahey chuckles.  "God help _those_ recruits."

Stiles winks.  "God help the perps they go after -- Judge Reyes is going to be an instructor for their combat skills portion."

The two men laugh for a moment before falling silent. 

 _You know Reyes and Boyd have their own 'arrangement'._ Lahey sends while idly turning the jar over in his hand.

Stiles sips from his water to hide his surprise.  _That's stupid of them ... if the Chief --_

_Chief Deaton already knows._

Stiles blinks and his mind is suddenly filled with images of the Chief watching Boyd and Reyes walking to their respective vehicles to go home.  He realizes these are Isaac's memories of a moment in time.  Deaton turns back to the psi and says, "Everyone thinks they're so very careful but they aren't the first and they won't be the last and I just fucking don't care as long as they do their job as Judges."

Along with the images comes the impression of Deaton's mind from Lahey's ability, something Stiles uses himself to determine if a perp is lying.  The Chief is serious as a heart attack.  Lahey gets up and walks to the door.  He pauses, turning to hand Stiles the jar with his implant and the bullet.

_Wouldn't waste too much time recuperating here ... not everyone gets a second chance._

_Copy that,_ Stiles returns.

* * *

Fourteen days in the med-center and Stiles never wants to see it again even though he knows that's a pipe dream.  He still has brutal migraines, a left-over from the neural pulse that he was only barely able to block when his implant was triggered.  The techs assure him they'll gradually resolve on their own but it could be another month.  He's on desk duty until he can function without the pain meds.  It's not ideal but he knows he'll be back at least.

Lahey dropped off his bike that morning and it feels incredible to have it beneath him again.  He rides the streets for a while before circling around to his intended destination.  He takes a different route every single time.  No matter what has happened, Stiles knows he'll never let his guard down.  Not for this man.  He moves around the building and parks in the underground garage.  He takes the stairs and eventually Stiles finds himself in front of a very familiar door.

It's out of line to show up unannounced but Stiles presses the buzzer anyway.  He waits until the door opens and walks in like nothing untoward has ever happened between them.  He barely makes it over the threshold before he's grabbed and pulled against a hard, sweating body.  The kiss is hot and hard and full of need that pours into Stiles' mind like fire.  It sparks his own response and before he knows it, they're straining to undress and get to the bed.  Stiles wastes no time in lifting his legs and giving Hale full access.  The Judge grunts when his fingers find Stiles already prepped and ready.  The sound morphs into a growl as he slides home.  Green eyes and amber eyes lock as Stiles hooks his legs around the trim waist and pulls them flush.  It's all the invitation Hale needs and he sets a grueling pace but Stiles silently accepts it and loses himself in the rhythm.

The world shrinks down to his mind and Derek's.  Time blurs and before Stiles can even comprehend it, Hale is coming with low moan and the sight of the muscled and scarred body above him, frozen in pleasure throws the psi right over the cliff.  He whines high and loud, unable to silence his cry.  Stiles takes Hale's weight when the Judge collapses on top of him.  He rolls easily over when Hale shifts and puts Stiles on top.  The young man crosses his arms and rests his chin on them.  Hale's mouth quirks and then blossoms into the first full smile Stiles has ever seen on the man.  It takes years off the Judge's face and brightens his green eyes to the point they almost shine.

"Comfortable?" Hale asks.

 "Very."

 "Staying?"

 "Absolutely."

 "Permanently?"

Stiles tenses.  The smile is only a faint ghost of itself and he can feel Hale withdrawing.  He decides.  With his index finger, he traces a figure eight lying on its side over Hale's chest.  When the Judge returns the gesture, there simply isn't anything else left to say.


End file.
